It was my last week at work. I’d hoped for a slow day, but that wasn’t happening. The clinic was full to capacity. I’d performed surgery on a rottweiler in the morning, and he was sleeping it off in the back. His owner had called a total of twelve times according to Deidre, our receptionist. The girl was barely old enough to work, but she’d lived as many lives as an alley cat with bad luck. She took too many smoke breaks, but she was hell on the computer, and the pet owners seemed...